Black Smuggling
by The What-If Writer
Summary: "The Smuggler wasn't one to mess with other people's illegal affairs, be them bad or downright evil. But after one of his usual deliveries, he finds himself being drawn into more than he bargained for."
1. Chapter 1

_So I drew a picture on Deviantart surrounding this story I thought up and after consideration I decided to get the first chapter done to see where it would go. So here's a story._

_Please review :) _

* * *

Chapter 1: Smog and Smuggling

Luminopolis was one of the brightest and largest cities in Polaris; packed with both sky scraping buildings thousands of stories high, lights illuminating the sky and streets brighter than the sun itself. But, behind all light is darker things. Lumopolis had duller areas below the bright lights above, where unwanted things like crime, illegal trade and other slimy activities roamed secretly yet somewhat obviously.

The people there were no different; dirty dealers, swindlers, gamblers, thieves, criminals and smugglers.

Smuggling was a risky but prosperous line of work; you get the stuff everybody wants and are ready to pay bundles to get a hold of- like weapons, ammo, information, chemicals, anything made illegal that slimy people wanted in Polaris.

The Black Market deep down within the city was dull and shadowy; much like in habitants. Despite the crowds and cluttering, there wasn't as much noise to be heard as there would be in a more...honest market. People spoke in gruff, low tones, eyes fluttering back and forth encase of onlookers or eavesdroppers. People had daggers in their eyes and behind their backs, and here, pretty much in all of their pockets and bags.

It was musky and crumbling in the roots of the city, shadows of stalls raised up to cast darkness on the occupants and tables, benches and whatnot overflowing with unorganised, forbidden merchandise. Smoke and ash was always present in the scent of the air, as where the murky smell of scum.

The Smuggler was no stranger to these parts, and strode rather confidently (but not enough to draw attention) through the crowds, head slightly bowed, his long brimmed hat leaned over his forehead. His yellow, reptilian eyes scanned his surroundings. He took long, steady steps, boots parted the dust gathered beneath on the road. He chewed on his toothpick with a frown, lifting his large hat up just a little as he came to a halt.

His destination was Ollo's Weapon Stand; a usual customer of his services. Most of the weapons and ammo he could see on the stall where things he himself had smuggled in. Now he noticed they'd been taken apart, and each piece of each weapon had its own individual price. Smuggler couldn't help but smirk just a little, moving his toothpick to the other side of his jaw.

Trust Ollo to whip up a scheme like that to get people's money: Get them to buy all the parts for more than the whole thing would cost all together. Poor saps wouldn't know they'd been swindled.

Ah well, it's a cruel galaxy.

He gave a slight sniff and plucked his toothpick from his lips, tossing it aside and hitching his heavy cargo sling further up on his shoulder and continued over to the short, tubby and slimy looking markazian, a certain feather companion of his flying ahead to greet his client first.

"Rark, We're back, We're back, betta have money!"

Smuggler scowled slightly at this blunt entrance and strode up to the stand, where the markazian spotted him with a wide-eyed look. Then, he grinned in oily pleasantness.

"Ah, Smuggler ma old friend." He drawled, hands up towards him as if the Smuggler couldn't see himself and needed to be pointed out, "What a pleasure."

The Smuggler rose a brow and sniffed a little, ignoring the parrot that was glaring at the smaller man sourly. He allowed a lopsided smirk. "Long time, Ollo. Pleasure's all yours."

Ollo laughed darkly, hands clasped together and he glanced at the side. "Aaaah...Now, If you don't mind me ask-ing..."

_Clunk._

Smuggler dropped his heavy load of illegal ammo onto the stall stand with a predictably smug air, grinning down at the alarmed markazian, who's jumped back with a comical wave of his arms.

Ollo forced a grin at him. "Much obliged."

"Welp, ye asked for more, an' ye gottit." Smuggler commented, positioning his weight onto one leg and placing one hand on his hip. "Now that you've got yer stuff, Ah wan' ma pay."

He added a slightly darker note to his voice, frowning down at Ollo. He was, of course, referring to the last time he'd delivered and the little slimeball hadn't paid. Next time, he kept say'n. Let your clients and buyers do that too much and you'll never get your money. Parrot piped up at this, hopping beside Ollo.

"Rargh, Pay up, Pay up, shorty!"

Ollo sneered at him with slight disgust, turning back to the tall reptilian man before him. "Ah, yes." He inhaled deeply, placing both grubby hands together, fingers parralel, "There mya have been a setback with my, shall we say, banker. It may be possible I will not have all of your pay, Smuggler."

He looked back up at him, having stared at the wooden stand through his whole excuse, and almost squeaked. Smuggler was a tall being, and this shadowy part of the city, his slightly luminous yellow eye boring down on you were the last thing you wanted to see.

Not to mention the sharp dagger blade he was spinning idly in his hand.

Smuggler took a sharp breath, scowling down at Ollo. "Now lookey here, ye little slimeball. I let ye off with a warnin' last time with all that 'I'll pay ya later' garbage, so now ya owe me double."

Ollo wasn't able to hide his unease, and Smuggler saw his chance to get his point across. He seized the hapless criminal by the frost of his grimy shirt and hauled him up to eye level, which considered the different in species was quiet a height.

"Ya get me ma bolts now, and ah won' skin ya." He grinned in an almost friendly way, "Course that's only a warnin'"

"Alright, Alight!" Ollo screeched, raising both hands up in surrender. Smuggler dropped him unceremoniously onto the floor. He could have sworn he'd seen the chubby little grub bounce a few times. Parrot hopped onto his shoulder and gestured to him stoutly.

"Rargh, Wimp of the wimps."

"Got tha' right, par'ner." Smuggler commented as he watched the markazian in question hurry back behind the curtains; to the building behind his stall to retrieve the payment. Smuggler drummed his fingers on his hip and popped another toothpick into his mouth, impatient.

He took a moment to gaze around the dark, dirt street below the lights of Luminopolis and couldn't help but wonder again if they even knew about the dealing occurring below them. That, and if they even gave a darn. Not that he had a problem with that, though.

Ollo finally returned with the bag of bolts, and Smuggler and his partner grinned simultaneously as it was tossed their way. Ollo grumbled to himself as he hauled the newly arrived ammo off the countertop and turned, shooting a glare over his shoulder as he spotted the Smuggler checking to make sure the bolt inside were all actually bolts.

Traitorous world out here.

Happy that the payment was ironically honest, Smuggler tipped his hat towards Ollo and turned and flashed a crooked grin. "Be seein' ya, Ol."

"It'll be all too soon." He heard him grumble before he was out of earshot.

As he strode back the way he came, the Smuggler began counting the bolts; a little past time of his he found entertaining. Parrot sat idly on his shoulder, glaring at signs now and again and mumbling about what a load of garbage they were.

They were interrupted when something collided with one of the Smuggler's long legs, knocking him off balance. The man stumbled but regained control quickly, glaring over his shoulder as he spotted a bunch of teen ruffians charging down the street caterwauling like nobodies business. His teeth ground on his toothpick as he glared after them.

It was that moment when he noticed one of his bolts had been knocked from the pouch he'd recently received, and spotted it rolling a little way down the street. Out of the corner of his non-patched eye, he saw some of the teens that had so kindly run into him had hung around.

His eye narrowed.

But, the bolt did not roll to any of them. Instead, it hit again the toes of a very small pair of feet. Smuggler rose a brow and spotted a very small tyke gazing curiously down at the shiny thing. He was surprised, a bit, to see that the little thing was one of his species despite a few differences (like height, for one. The tyke was tiny.) But what surprised him more was that the kid was probably the youngest person in this whole, scum-filled sector.

Said kid reached down and plucked the bolt up in small, pudgy hands and turned it over, admiring the shiny metal. Smugger scowled and strode over. Innocent-looking or not, that was his bolt the little short fry was holding.

The little person didn't see the tall shadow looming over them until Smuggler was standing over them, a lean giant glowering down. The kid looked up at his with wide, brown-rimmed pupils and gaped silently, clutching the bolt.

Smuggler leaned down and held out a hand. "You give tha' back now, Lil' Mite"

The kid stared up at him blankly, mouth hanging open slightly. The Smuggler found himself wondering whether the kid was a boy or a girl- too young to even tell. Six, maybe? Who knew.

"Give it here." He held his hand further out, an impatient note edging at his voice. The kid glanced at his hand, then back up at him. Then, one of the on-looking teens abruptly cut in.

"RUN!"

The Smuggler had made the mistake of glancing at the one who yelled, and the tiny kid who held his bolt jumped and ran- looking like they had no idea what they were doing.

"Darnit." Was all he could grumbled. He gave a short sprint after the kid, who looked over their shoulder and squealed upon seeing that he followed. Judging by that voice, it sounded like the tyke was a girl. She ducked to the side suddenly, and with a wide eye he saw her slip into a tiny gap between two buildings, giving a small wail of fright as he glanced back at him again.

He had to stop just outside the gap leaning a hand on the wall of one of the buildings. The kid vanished from sight, and he sighed grudgingly, frowning. Parrot remarked,

"Rargh, we just got robbed by a lil' girl."

"Can it, ya feather head." Despite his retort, who couldn't help but feel annoyed- for the two reason his partner had just outlined. His a scowl, he flicked his hat so it sat on his head at a better angle and strode of irritably, grumbling to himself.

In the darkened, narrow gap between the buildings, the little girl poked her head past the wall and watched him go with a curious yet frightened look, still clutching the bolt uncertainly.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sorry for the long wait, whoever is reading this (which seems to be not many but I updated anyhow) Here's the next chapter._

_Please review :)_

* * *

Chapter 2 : Deal of Distrust

Night held no remorse for any residents in the depths of the darkest sectors of Luminopolis. During the day, the grubby markets and dusty dealings buzzed with life- if you could call it that. The thugs, mercenaries and other low-lives of the city gathered around like fungus, and even if they did have looks that could kill, it was better to see them in front of your face rather than from the darkness behind you.

The Smuggler was one of the few that strode down the darkened street below the lights of the city; chewing darkly on a toothpick and moving slower than he had been earlier on in the day. His parrot companion was settled quietly on his shoulder, under the cover of his long brimmed hat. Times like this, in places like these, you didn't jabber if you could help it. And if you absolutely must talk, it was in hushed whispers that you'd have to be right close by to hear.

It was not entirely silent; the buzz of the city night above where all the pretty buildings where did not fade with distance- however, being away from the noise and the light was the unnerving part to most. But the Smuggler wasn't afraid- just cautious. He'd rather not get into a brawl with some mugger tonight.

He turned a corner, lip twisting around his toothpick in a frown as he noticed how this area was more enclosed; tight. A pair of bloated pinkish creatures clad in thick clothing and hoods glanced at him as he strode by, their hushed conversation pausing as his tall shadow passed over him. He glanced at them for a split second before moving his gaze back to his path.

He'd received a transmission- a rare occurrence. Only those whose word of silence had been assured were allowed to have such communication, people he 'knew' and had smuggled for in the past. It was through them that he ran into new clients, and he was always careful of impostors and the law. Whoever this was, his former clients had been scared enough to 'suggest' his services without a second thought. That interested him, but also had him suspicious.

Smuggler didn't hesitate to flip out his knife and carelessly twirl it in his hand as he neared the meeting point: a oddly hushed bar in the depths of the sector. He could see the place now; not the rowdy, dank places you get but rather that card-playing, tense and quiet places where secret business and planning occurred.

Smuggler paused for a moment a few feet away from the door, murky light radiating through cracks in blinds and underneath the doorway. He chewed a little more on his toothpick before plucking it from his lips and tossing it aside. He adjusted his hat before moving forward, placing a single hand on the door and swinging it open.

The door slammed against the wall, and dozens of narrowed eyes turned his way, looking up from card games, huddles and drinks. He glanced left and right before stepping in, letting the door swing shut behind him. The gazes followed him as he crossed the room (and it was indeed a very long room, wide and cluttered with tables and stools) but they instantly looked away upon seeing which door he was heading for.

His uncovered eye narrowed upon reaching the door; a metallic one with a n eye slot a little more than at level with his own gaze. Back Rooms were usually reserved in advance, for those who wanted their business to remain out of earshot of anyone uninvolved. The Smuggler had been to a few of these meetings, but something didn't feel quite right.

He exchanged a knowing frown with his feathered partner. He'd have to watch his step here.

He tapped roughly on the metal door, slipping his knife back to his side and he waited. The slot opened, and he caught sight of two sour green eyes peering at him. Smuggler looked up, and tipped his hat back a little. The eyes narrowed and the slot slid shut.

The door slid open, and a large, lumbering tyharranoid sporting four eyes glared down at him before stepping to the side. Smuggler looked past him and spotted a table through the dim light. A pair of feet were set up on the metal surface, five-fingered hands sat on the knee of the crossed left leg. Apart from the black-clad gloves and the legs (and a notable trench coat trailing past the seat) the figure was hidden in the darkness.

A Taller figure leaned against the wall beside him, clad in a heavy black coat and hood. He was taller and more gangly the Smuggler, and a long, lipless (and noiseless) green face poked out from beneath the hood

The more relaxed and smaller of the two, the one sitting down, spread his arms wide as the Smuggler approached the seat opposite. "A, Mr Smuggler," A cheerful, yet oily voice cut through the air, "How nice it is to meet you."

Smuggler slumped down on the seat, and had no problem with leaning back, looking quite unbothered by the whole mysterious air. But, his eyes kept looking around for any sign of a trap. He didn't trust people, and these two jumped up the no-trust scale like fleas.

"Swell ta meet you, too." He replied slowly, folding his arms. His eyes peered at the darkened figure from beneath his hat. Why was this pipsqueak hiding, anyway?

The hands moved, one tapping its five digits on the table as the other waved a little. The slightly sophisticated-sounding voice continue, "We can disperse with the pleasantries. We both want to get down to business, I'm very sure."

Smuggler eyed the drumming fingers as the tall, hooded figure spoke in a slithering voice that sounded as used as a century-old ship, "We've heeeard of your smuggling prowessss, 'Smuggler'" He drawled, a blue, slimy tongue clicking against yellow teeth, "And we have a propossssition for you."

The outlaw couldn't help but snort, "If ya didn't I wouldn't be 'ere, woulda, pal?"

The slime ball growled in response, and the bulking henchman by the door hissed. But, the hidden short fry raised a hand, a wheezing sort of chuckle escaping him.

"I like You, Smuggler," He remarked, lowering his hand. He had leaned forward a centimetre or two, and the Smuggler could just make out a pair of dark, brown irises reflected in the dim light.

"So if you're here, that means you accept, yes?" Before Smuggler could finish his nod, the other continued, "Good. I have some...cargo that needs delivering to a remote location on Merdegraw. My associates will be waiting at the station on the planet to give you the next co-ordinates. I cannot give you them now, however- I like to play it safe."

Smuggler cocked a brow, but allowed him to continue without interruption, "You will be able to pick up the cargo on the Ship Docks at the edge of Luminopolis, in the west side. Do you know-"

"Yep, I know it," Smuggler muttered, his desire to get out of the stuff, shadowy room at the boiling point. The glinting brown eyes narrowed.

"I take it I'm boring you. If you'd rather leave now and remain ignorant of some details..." The eyes tilted, signalling he was cocking his head and an air of smugness wormed its way into his tones, "Then I won't be responsible for any harm to arrests that may result."

Smuggler scowled at him, his feathered Parrot's eyes widening in alarm. He raised both hands in silent, mock surrender and allowed him to continue.

However, it was his tall, slimy companion who spoke next. "Theeere are ruuules to thisss, Smuggler." He hissed darkly, head lowering, "We advise you to follow them if you value your life."

The outlaw rose a hairless brow in response, offering only a scowl instead of words. He looked back at the shadows where the smaller of the two piped up again.

"That's your main outline, Smuggler. Allow me to lay down the rules." The cheery tone he'd been using hardened to a more serious one, something Smuggler didn't fail to notice. He must like his rules...

"You will not ask any questions after this meeting. You will pick up the cargo tomorrow at three in the morning. You will receive half of your pay now, and the rest of it when your task is complete. You will not tell anyone or anything of this, and you will not look inside the cargo or tamper with it in any mode or fashion. If you break any of these, I can assure I will know. And you will die. Painfully."

The voice lightened almost insanely at the last word, and it was clear the smaller being liked the thought despite wanting the task done. "Sooo...any questions you have must be asked now. And after this, we will not talk until everything is done and dusted."

There was pause. The figure leaned back, brown eyes vanishing into the darkness as did his hands. Out of all of them he seemed the most relaxed. The Smuggler sat opposite narrowed his eyes a little before sniffing, tipping his hat up. "I gotta few. How much we talkin' here?"

"5000 bolts is the half your getting now." The smaller figure quipped.

Smuggler's brows raised a little. "Huh. Fair deal. Aaand one more thing. Why is it that I ain't being told what it is I'm transportin'?"

There was a pause, and the hooded figure looked over at his colleague. The smaller figure didn't seem bothered. "I like to keep by business my own. Tell me, Smuggler, do you know much about...chemicles?"

The Smuggler scowled. "I betta not be transportin' no bombs or gas cans, pal." He recalled the last time he smuggled anything of that sort, and it ended up messy. The kind of messy that almost gets you landed in prison or decapitated.

"Oh ho, isn't nothing like that. Think of it more as a...tool that helps with something, like a wrench or a key...Just don't get too nosey, Smuggler."

Taking that as his cue to leave, the Smuggler stood and tipped his hand without a smile or considerate word. He turned and began making his way to the door when the figure called out again.

"I do mean it, my friend. You will regret it if you do..." The inward laugh that followed was all he needed to hear. This guy obviously had a few screws loose, or a few of them screwed in the wrong place. The henchman at the door handed him the bag of bolts promised as half of his loot when he neared the door. He gave a humorless grin. "Much obliged, friend."

The latter snorted and stepped aside to allow the Smuggler to leave. He glanced back at the two shadowy figures before striding out the door, frown still plastered on his face. Good money or no, he just wanted to get this over with. Whatever they were transporting, he didn't want any more part in it outside of being the delivery man.

"Rark, I don't like um, Don't like them a lil bit." He frowned huffily at the Parrot swooping around him as he strode down the streets, back the way he came.

"Don't be such a cowardly featherhead." He retorted, adjusting the hat on his head, "Money's good and that's all there is to it..."

His voice trailed off when he noticed something glinting on the ground; a shiny token standing out from the grimy street it lay in. The Smuggler frowned curiously and knelt down, scooping up the object to find it was a stray bolt. He smirked a little.

He tossed it in the air and caught it as he stood to his full length, remarking, "Looks like our luck's changin', partner." The Parrot rolled his eyes and perched himself atop the Smuggler's hat.

"Doesn't change the fact we were robbed by a lil' girl."

"Woulda quit that already? C'mon, gettin' up at three tha' morrow and I ain't got much sleepin' time..."

"Rawrk, You're a grump with or without it, rawrk."

* * *

_Don't trust shadowy figures, even if they only come up to past your knee in height. _


	3. Chapter 3

_First of all, a big thanks to those who reviewed and are reading. :D_

_I honestly don't know if many people are reading this or not as it seems no one reviews ANY of my stuff anymore. Either I'm loosing my touch or had none to begin with. Perhaps people just don't feel like reviewing, lol. Anyhow here's the third chapter to this barley read story that for some reason I continued. Here ya go._

_PLEASE REVIEW. IF YOU DON'T THE SMUGGLER WILL EJECT YOU INTO SPACE._

* * *

Chapter 3: Curious Cargo

It was as if the weather knew of his task today. A thick sheet of fog lay over the lights of the city; most of which had been shut off as the morning approached. Though he wasn't sure whether to refer to this time as night or day sue to the barely-lit sky and the almost empty spaceship dock at the early hour. He was used to working at unpleasant hours, but it didn't mean the Smuggler had to like them. He grumbled to himself sourly as he strode through the docks, eyes sliding over the parked ships and empty spaces.

It was quiet, and no-one was in sight. Whether that had been set up or was just coincidence was beyond him. He halted near one of the empty ports, and placed a hand on his hip, turning his head about. There was no sign of these 'associates' and it was nearing ten minutes late.

"Rawrk, Bet it's a hoax!" His Parrot piped from his shoulder. He shot him a frown for speaking so loud next to his ear and sniffed in indifference.

"Welp, if they don't show up, I'm keepin the bolts."

"No need for that, my tall blue friend."

Both he and his feathered companion looked around to see four darkly clothed men standing near one of the seemingly empty ships. Smuggler's own sat beside it, and he could've sworn the neighbouring vassal hadn't been there a second ago. He scowled as he examined the four; Two of them tyranoids, one markazian and one kerchu. They stood beside a dark blue, metal cargo box sealed tight with clamps with a handle n each side; rectangular and not very long or wide. Smuggler rose a brow at how tightly it was sealed.

The markazian (who wore a not-so subtle fedora hat) saw his glance and smirked, waving a finger. "Ah-ah-ah. Not happinin', pal. My friends here will dump this on your ship and you can get going. We wanna make this quick, kay?"

Smuggler looked back at him quietly for a moment before replying slowly. "Agreed...friend."

The parrot watched with a sharp pair of scornful eyes as the tyranoids loaded the crate onto Smuggler's ship, the kerchu keeping watch with a sharp blade in hand. The markazian turned to the outlaw and handed him a small card and square device with a little red button.

"These will show you to the exchange point, my tall pal," The smaller being stated cheerfully, "The card's the station, box will give you the right..er route, so you don't run into authorities."

"I know howta avoid folks, pal." The Smuggler retorted darkly, and the cheerful grin on the shorter man faded at his scowl, "I kindly suggest ya don't go patronizin' me."

The fedora-wearing guy scowled up at him. "Whatever..."

The two tyranoids returned from the Smuggler's ship, having placed the cargo inside. The owner slipped the small device and card into a pocket on his belt and adjusted his hat. "I'll be goin' now if that were fine with y'all." He made it clear in his tone that he didn't need babysitting.

"Rawrk, later, ya buncha cre..." Before his sentence could be could continue the Smuggler slipped off his hat, quickly swiped it over the loud-mouthed bird and shoved it back on his head, muting the insulting words. Hand still on his hat to keep it there, the Smuggler flashed a crooked grin and strode into his ship without giving any form of goodbye.

"Happy travels!" The markazian called, without any response but the slam of the ship's hatch and the engine switching on. The vassal rose slowly into the air, and the Smuggler pulled on the leaver and sent them soaring away from the foggy ship dock. He glanced back through the window as the four dots making up the group moved back towards their own ship.

The Parrot finaly managed to fly from beneath the Smuggler's hat, glaring at him furiously. "Rark, why can't we insult 'um, rawrk.?"

"Because...We ain't got our full pay yet, kerchu- sweat brain."

The bird settled himself comfortably on top of his hat, looking over his feathered shoulder at the cargo sat back behind them There was only a small room-sized area behind them with a bench, a storage bunker for supplies and other bits and bobs that were kept for selling in dire situations, but the cargo box fit alright against the wall, eerily like a tiny coffin.

"Hope it ain't a body." Was all the Parrot could say. The Smuggler pressed a few buttons and adjusted the speed of the vessel before glancing over his shoulder himself, chasing away the gruesome thought. That was the last thing he needed so early in the morning.

There was a silence. Only the hum of the engine and the beeps of the controls sounded in the air, foggy skies moving past them as they travelled through the sky. Leaving too quickly would arouse suspicion, so usually the Smuggler took his time on leaving a planet before speeding up through space.

The Parrot was oddly quiet. He glanced at the Smuggler (or rather, down at his hat) and back at the box. Then back at him, then back to the box. A few moments passed.

"Rawrk, we should take a look, take a look!"

"Nope."

"Rawrk, 'fraidy pants."

"We look in that box, we don't get paid," The Smuggler spelled out, his head just started to hurt. Yup. Too early for this.

He looked back at the cargo again and sighed, shaking his head. He wouldn't admit to his feathered companion that he too was growing curious (and by now he was beyond suspicious) but part of him knew that he wouldn't like whatever he found out was in there.

But whatever was going on here, something just didn't feel right. He wasn't transporting weapons, parts or the kind of thing he was used to. And not knowing what was in that darn box was starting to get at his brain.

He pulled a toothpick out of his pocket and placed it between his teeth, chewing on it slowly as he glared at the box. A while later they exited the planet's atmosphere, and the darkness of space greeted them silently. A few minutes or so passed as the Smuggler pulled on a lever, glancing at the card he'd been given with a frown. Oddly, the route they'd 'suggested' would take him longer than t would going another way.

Perhaps another one of that short guy's 'play it save' ideas. Ain't that peachy...

"...Loook in the booox...rawrk."

The Smuggler's eyes widened as the Parrot leaned over the front of his hat upside down, large eyes blocking his view. He pushed him away.

"Cut that out."

"Rawrk, they won't know! Rawrk."

The Smuggler began drumming his fingers irritably on the lever, sighing again. Another pause followed.

"...Box."

The Smuggler growled and snatched his hat from his head, slapping at the bird who dodged easily, flying back and sitting on the very source of their disagreement. The tall man placed his hat back on his head and shot his companion one more glare before turning back to the space ahead. Seeing no asteroids or comets, he pulled another lever at the side and put it into auto-pilot for the time being.

He leaned back in his set and propped his feet up, tipping his hat over his eye and placing his hands behind his head, aiming to get a little shut-eye. The Parrot stuck his tongue out a him in annoyance.

"Rawrk, look in the box, look in the..." He stopped when he saw the Smuggler had already fallen asleep. He rolled his eyes and flew over, landing back on his partner's head before falling asleep himself.

Clunk.

The Smuggler was awakened an hour or so later by a noise behind him. He shifted on his seat, tipping his hat up so he could see. "Hm?"

Another clunk sounded behind him. Slowly, he turned around to stare at the crate, his drowsiness fading away almost instantly. He adjusted his hat, waking his Parrot in the process. The crate settled against the wall budged by an inch as if...

As if something inside was moving. The Smuggler's uncovered eye widened in alarm, and he sat there in the pilot seat for a few moments. Then, his eye narrowed and he stood, a suspicious look plastered on his face as he strode over to the box, albeit a little slowly.

To heck with their rules, he thought, he was seeing just what they'd handed him here.

He knelt down before the box and tugged at the two tight claps, finding them stuck tight. His fingers moved over them and pressed against a button by chance, and a small clicking noise sounded. His brows lifted in surprise to how easy it was to open. Maybe the heavy clamps focused more on keeping whatever was inside, inside, rather than anyone out.

He frowned again, lifting the other lock from the side of the box, and grasped the lid by the side. His other hand drifted over his knife, his Parrot companion peering over his head with wide eyes. Grasping the handle of his knife, he could hear the unmistakable sound of something struggling inside.

The Smuggler bore his teeth and lifted the lid, holding up his knife at the same time. He stopped, and peered down inside to see a brown sheet bundle squirming inside. The box shifted to the side, and He shuffled back a little as it tipped onto its side, the unfocused weight of the lid and the struggling of the thing inside resulting in its topple.

The Smuggler stood to his full height, twirled his dagger so it sat more firmly in his hand and stepped closer, eyes boring down on the bundle that fell out.

A tiny hand touched the floor of the ship, appearing from under the sheet. A miniature, three-fingered, blue hand.

Smuggler's eyes widened.

A small creature finally managed to free itself from the sheet, falling onto its side with a squeak. The very same small person that had stolen his bolt the other day- the little girl from the streets.

* * *

_GASP._

_Please Review. Please be advised that I'll be going off somewhere so the next chapter may come quick before I go, or later after I come back. Depends on what time I have. Hope you liked the chapter :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_WELL I actually got this sorry excuse for a chapter up before I fly away to the land of the sun for a nice holiday. Sorry if it seems rushed. I hope you enjoy and I hope to see at least one review when I return from the beaches :D_

_Enjoy this chapter._

* * *

Chapter 4: Mysterious Mishaps

The tiny girl struggled to stand, rubbing her eyes shakily before focusing on the Smuggler standing a few steps away. He was staring back at her in astonishment. Her eyes widened in utter terror and both parties froze.

Slowly, Smuggler's eyes began to narrow and he lowered his knife, confused but still very, very suspicious as he slowly registered what he was seeing.

"Well I'll be..."

He stepped forward, aiming on questioning what the heck was going on when the small girl screamed and darted away from him. The Smuggler watched as she cowered behind the other boxes and parts nearby. He strode around the pile and leaned to the side, scowling. Before he could question her at all, the girl fled again, around to the other side.

The Smuggler's scowl deepened and he stepped back, placing a hand on his forehead. "What in the world..."

"Rawrk, Didn't see that one comin'..."

He turned his head as he spotted the child crawling under the bench against the side of the ship, curling against the wall as if trying to make herself as small and un-see able as possible. The Smuggler walked over and knelt down, place a hand on the bench and looking underneath at the cowering girl.

Upon seeing him, she curled her legs up against her chest so only her eyes could be seen past her knees. He rose a brow as she whimpered quietly.

"C'mon out, lil mite." He said, "I gotta few questions for ye."

The girl cowered back, shaking her head and covering her eyes, "Nononono no..."

"So ya can talk after all." The Smuggler remarked with a slight sarcasm covering his tone. He stood up, placed both hands on his hips and thought hard for a moment. Just what where these cooks playing at, giving him a little girl trapped in a box? Was this some kind of ransom, kidnapping deal going on? And, thinking back to what that five-fingered fellow had said, what did it have to do with darn chemicals of all things?!

The Smuggler placed a hand over his chin and thought a little more before giving up. Whatever this was, it sure didn't look good, and whatever fait they'd planned for the little mite hiding under the bench, it didn't look like a good one.

He needed to find out more before he did anything, that was for certain.

The Parrot flew down from his shoulder and onto the ground before the bench, peering at the girl in an almost scrutinizing manner. It looked almost funny, seeing that narrowed, suspicious look on that funny little bird.

Smuggler breathed through his nose, glaring down at his partner darkly for the look as it wouldn't help in getting the kid to talk. However, he blinked a second later when he saw the girl's little hand reach out timidly towards the bird.

The Parrot was too surprised to react, and the little girl stroked his head feathers curiously. "N-Nice...B-birdie..."

Smuggler barley suppressed his smirk. His parrot friend seemed to appreciate the attention but was embarrassed about it at the same time. The tall man knelt down again, and instantly the kid scuttled back against the wall again. "Rark, told ya your face was scary, rark."

The Smuggler flicked him away before looking back at the kid. "Lookie here, Sweat Pea, I'm gonna level with ya. I don't know what is goin' on, who ya are and why they wan' ya. Care ta...shed some light on this dire situation for us ignorant souls?"

He didn't know if a small child would be able to detect the fake pleasant tone, the like of which he used when trying to keep reason between him and someone he wasn't getting along with. But she seemed to have been tipped off with his frown.

She stared at him helplessly before shaking her head. "I...I...d-dunno..."

"Gotta rich family or somthin'?"

She shook her head, looking quite blank and oblivious. "Hmph. Didn't think so. Did ya do anything that would make someone come after ya?"

He scowled when another thought occurred to him, "Didya steal from them, too?"

The kid froze, obviously remembering the bolt she'd stolen in her panicked state. Then, she shook her head again. She ended up holding her head in her hands from dizziness brought by all the shaking. The Smuggler let out a frustrated sigh and rubbed his forehead. He still had no clue as to what was happening, and he sure as heck didn't know what to do.

He stared at the back of his pilot seat in thought. Now he wasn't an honourable man- he was an outlaw for crying out loud. But there where crimes he didn't stoop himself to- kidnapping being one of them. Kidnapping children was out of the question, and he only used his knife and guns when he needed to. No psycho shooting here.

Smuggler sighed again. No wonder that little shrimp that had set him this task wanted him to keep his nose out. But it didn't really make a difference- even if he hadn't looked in the box, he still would have been trapped in this deal as he already had half of his pay- not to mention their promise of painful punishment should he disappoint them.

He could just let the little tyke go- wonder off into who knows where and be done with it. Nah, too much. Handing her into the authorities would be a more promising plan, but the fact he was an outlaw (with a bunch of gang leaders looming over him with a contract)he doubted he'd get out alive.

Maybe he could just leave her at the authorities' doorstep and drive off, home free. Those so-called criminal leaders had no way of following him...but then again, that guy had sounded like a real wise guy. For all he knew, he might be being followed.

A soft wail brought him away from his thoughts and he looked back at the kid that started all of this mess. Her face was buried in her knees and she was crying quietly to herself. The Smuggler rolled his eyes. Oh, Joy of a thousand.

"Don't ya give me the water works, Darlin', its givin' me a mighty headache. Why doncha come out and play with the Nice Birdie?"

"RAWRK, WHA-"

With an audible flap, The Smuggler flattened the bird again with his hat, lifting it up to allow the dizzy avian to topple back. He shot his partner a meaningful glare before standing up from his kneeling position. He'd let the kid calm down while he thought about what he was going to do.

Cause as vile, cheating and untrustworthy he could be...giving a kid to a crime organisation just wasn't part of his contracts. Not that he cared for children at all- they were always running around the place like annoying, ankle-biting rats. He adjusted his hat and moved back to his pilot seat, dropping himself down in aggravation. He rubbed his forehead again.

Complicated contracts where the last thing he needed. What he needed now was a vacation, some bolts and maybe a drink.

_"Rawrk, don't pull my feathers!"_

The Smuggler turned his head and saw the little girl had come out from under the bench and had just lifted the bird into her hands, in a very soft, delicate hold. Despite this the Parrot struggled madly as if he was being strangled. She cuddled him close to her chest, and stroked his head, wearing an equally small, gentle smile. Smuggler couldn't help but raise a brow. How in the heck did a little kid like this survive on the streets?

The Parrot's expression was hilarious, and he snorted when he saw it. The bird had a stiff, narrow glare plastered on his face, his gaze burning a hole though the wall nearby.

The Smuggler grinned and strode back over to them, remarking slyly to his partner, "And ya said something about me loosin' dignity by being robbed by this lil' tyke, Partner."

"Rawrk, get stuffed, rawrk."

"I think he'll open the boxxx. No...I ssssimply guarantee it."

The hooded, long, green-faced creature stood a few yards away from his colleague, who stood quite calmly at the shadowy edge. His thin lips twisted into a snarl, "Just what do you hope to gain by luring an outsider into all of this, Fuzzball?"

A snide, quite chuckle answered him. Then, the five-fingered placed his hands behind his back. "Oh, for all of the reasons I said earlier, my friend. Your faith in my judgement is not wavering, is it?"

The tone was light enough, but the other sensed the underlying threat instantly. He replied slowly after a pause. "Of coursssse not. I jusssst think it would be wissser to place our pieces carefully in thisss event."

The smaller criminal laughed, this time taking no effort into making himself sound cheerful and carefree. It was a dark, nasty laugh, one that many would rather not hear. "Ooooh, But I'm having far too much fun. People like him...and plans like this...they are so easy to play with."

Those fiendish, slightly unhinged brown eyes locked with his hooded gaze and the taller being stiffened, sneering a little. "What do you meeean?"

The shadow-clocked figure stepped back, but his pale teeth clinked against the dim light of the station, making them visible through the shadow of the many large ships around them. The teeth morphed into a smirk. "People like him are easy to play. They act all tough...Hnnn."

The happy (and slightly frightening) little noise he made there was enough to make anyone question his sanity. The look on his face was just that- frightening. And that was with him in the shadows.

His colleague glared back at him sourly, not frightened himself, but beyond aggravated by his look.

"I jussst hope you know what you are doing..._Orange._"

With that last hiss the figure's head tilted forward and the vague light of the station in the early morning illuminated his face; bouncing off almost vivid orange fur and blood-red stripes on his large, triangular ears. His cat-like muzzle twisted into a smirk, striped tail swishing from behind his black trench coat.

He stared you at his partner with sharp, baggy, drooped eyes and his smile widened across his face. The lombax drew a breath and replied, "Oh you know me...I always know what I am doing."

His head tilted downwards, eyes glaring up, clashing against bright orange fur. His smile widened even more.

_"Always."_

* * *

_GASP-A._

_Pictures__ of this scary fluffy villain can be found on my deviantart account._


	5. Chapter 5

_Sorry I was away so long, had delays and holidays to deal with. Hope I didn't annoy people XD Clad this story got a little more reviews. Thanks, everybody!_

_Here's the chapter and please review._

* * *

Chapter 5: Plot or Planning

The Smuggler hated not knowing what to do.

He was a resourceful outlaw; most any situation he got into he could figure out at least a spit-second plan or escape. He'd slipped past authorities, battled grunts, make more complex and mind-boggling deals and tricks than he could remember. But all of them where useless in this situation.

He drummed his fingers darkly in the steering joy stick, a contemplative but very irate frown on his muzzle. He glanced over his shoulder at the little girl curled in the corner; as far away from him as possible, still cuddling a very annoyed Parrot. The Smuggler huffed and looked back at the controls but paid no attention to the blinking lights or buttons.

He had already thought of tossing her to the authorities and scooting, but with that shrimp of a crime boss's threat ringing in his ears, he thought against it. He'd dealt deals before like he said, and he knew better than to underestimate crime bosses.

He drummed his fingers again, raking his brain for an idea. The only way he'd get out without causing trouble was to hand the kid over, and he'd already made up his mind about it. He didn't do that kind of stuff.

He glanced over his shoulder again, where the kid stared back at him quietly, cuddling the parrot. There was a pause.

"Look here, Sweat Pea, ya have no idea why they wancha?"

She shook her head.

He frowned. "Ye gotta name along with tha' there voice that's barely used?"

She stared back at him quietly, then at her feet, mumbling something about strangers. The Smuggler rolled his eyes and looked away again.

He went back to thinking. Maybe if he handed over the empty grate- nah, They'd know it was him who'd helped the kid escape. They'd need to see her to think-

His eyes snapped open, and very slowly, an idea began to grow. It was risky, and he'd only have one shot at it...but it just may work.

But it meant actually putting the kid back in the box, and giving them to her.

But after they saw she was there...she didn't have to stay there.

The little girl stared at her toes silently, clutching the warm and soft bird to her chest. She didn't know who this very tall stranger was, but so far he didn't seem to want to hurt her like so many people did back in the streets. He had a funny voice, too- and a nice pet. But she didn't like his knife.

She looked around the ship in awe. She hadn't flown in a ship since she was small(er) and couldn't help but find the soft hum of the engines comforting. She petted the bird on the head again and he grumbled under his breath. She titled her head.

_Clunk._

Her head snapped up. The Stranger stood and adjusted his hat with his back to her, sighing. Then he turned and strode towards them slowly. Instinctively she bundled further into the corner, almost strangling the bird in her arms.

The Stranger stood in front of her for a moment before kneeling down, tilting his hat up. She stared at him. What a funny eyepatch.

"Look, Sweat Pea, I know ya don't wanna go with those men that took ya." He paused and rubbed his forehead. The little girl, her mind wandering, focused on the knife attached to his belt. They went wide in wonder.

She looked back at the Stranger and snapped him out of his thoughts, "Did you ever kill anyone?"

He stared at her oddly, and though she didn't know, it was mainly because of how simply she'd asked it. His eyes narrowed. "Maybe. Now-"

"Was he an e-vil lom-bax?" She asked right after, titling her head. Now he rose a brow.

"Nope. I ain't seen any evil lombaxes in ma lifetime, Sweat Pea."

"Rawrk, Bur we seen plenty a-"

The Smuggler clamped a hand over the Parrots beak with a warning scowl. The girl quickly (and finally) released the bird and it jerked away from the blue man and flew off somewhere behind him.

"He was gonna swear, wasn't 'e?" The little girl had a critical expression that was almost comical for someone her age. The Smuggler's eyes narrowed.

"Never mind that. Kid, these men will be after us both if ya get away." Her face slowly became blank, then a tint of unease appeared.

The Smuggler rubbed his forehead again in frustration. "Which means we hafra..trick 'um, see? We'll make it look like I'm taken ya to them, and once they see ya in the box, They'll think I done ma job. Then me an' the Bird will come and getcha back. Understand?"

She stared up at him in silence. He stared back with his usual frown.

Then, her face grumbled and she wailed. "N-no I don' wanna go back in the booox!" She darted to the side to run for it, but the Smuggler reached out an arm and caught the tiny thing quickly. He scooped up the struggling kid, who chose to burst in loud cries of protest. She hit his chest and shoulders with tiny fists, sobbing, "Don' wanna, don' wanna, please, mister..."

"Kid, your not makin this-"

She hit his hat off his head. He scowled in a deadly manner and instantly she stopped thrashing, looking up at him as if he was some kind of grivelnox. She continued to sob quietly.

The outlaw shook his head and tucked her in the crook of his arm so he could use his free hand to scoop up his hat again, placing back on his head with a grumble. Then he looked back at the kid again.

"Okay, Sweat Pea, I know ya don' wanna trust me, and that's pretty smart," He grinned a little, "But this is the only way those men will leave ya along. Alright? You just sit tight and ole Smuggler will come getcha." He gave her nose a little poke to try and lighting the mood, but she just stared up at him with watery pupils.

"Buh Why? Didn't you know I was in there?"

"No I didn't, kid." The Smuggler replied quite honestly, "Thought ya were a bomb."

"Oh. That's nice."

There was another pause. "I don' wanna go in the box."

Sigh. "Well ya have to, Little Mite."

She was frozen in his arm for a moment. Then, much to his chagrin, she burst into tears again. He groaned and tried to ignore the Parrot less-than subtle laugh in the background. Her little fists pummel his shoulders again, and his hat was knocked off a second time when she tried to whack him in the face, this time wearing a pouting little frown. She wriggled out of his grasp as he tried to catch it and caught it herself.

They both froze and the Smuggler growled a little. "Kid, yer gettin' on my nerves."

She wiggled her tongue angrily at him and ran for it, clutching his hat in waving little arms. Smuggler sped forward and skidding in front of her, only to have the kid run under his legs towards the driver's seat.

"Rawrk, Little street rat on the loose, rawrk!"

The Smuggler ran forward and caught the running girl by the scruff and lifted her back, her legs and arms kicking madly. Despite her furious fighting, she was still sobbing. Smuggler was one again reminded of how he didn't like kids.

Her struggling faltered, and she was panting heavily. He took back his hat without having to pull it from her and placed it back on his head. She hiccupped solemnly.

"You won' cooo-oome." She wailed quietly. The Smuggler stood there, again irked that he had no idea what to do. So he awkwardly petted her on the head and placed her back in the crook of his arm, shaking his head.

"Yea I will, Sweat Pea. Ya have a Smuggler's honoured word." He placed a hand over his heart with exaggerated charm. She rested her head against his shoulder, sucking on her fingers absently, eyes drooped. He stiffened, cocking a brow.

"...Okay." She mumbled through her knuckles. The Smuggler hid an exasperated sigh. He wandered back to towards the box, kicked it back upright and scooped up the brown sheet and wrapped her back up again, ignoring the Parrot's narrowed 'you are a sap' eye-stare.

He looked back and found the girl was half-asleep, though worry flickered on her sleepy face. He gently tucked her inside and placed a hand on the lid before looking back down at her.

"Sit tight, Sweat Pea."

"...Bye-Bye, Mr Cowboy Hat Man."

His lips twisted. He didn't know if he wanted to laugh or glare. Her eyes slipped down as he shut the box and locked it again and he let out a tired breath.

This was why he never had children.

* * *

_Poor Smuggler, keeps loosing his hat_

_Sorry if I made him out-of-character, but I don't think the Smuggler is a total heartless creature. He has limits, I think, to his work. And sorry for the cutsey-ness and lack of action. I hope I'll get the next chapter done soon._

_There will be sneaky-ness and stealth O.O_


	6. Chapter 6

_GOD I ACTUALLY GOT THIS DONE._

_I hope this chapter didn't turn out as a mess. I think I ramble too much on about detail and what's happening and they'res not enough dialog...ah well. Sorry for the wait, been really busy!_

_Reviews Appreciated. _

* * *

Chapter 6: Close Calls

The Smuggler chewed darkly on his toothpick as his ship went into auto-pilot mode in order to be intercepted and land in the very remote-looking space station on the planet, where his destination was. The Parrot sat on his head, glaring forward at the ship's hatch that he stood in front of; the box sitting at his side. They scowled stonily at the metal entrance; as if readying for some kind of war. The bird on his head leaned forward as the ship landed, eyes narrowed as if to say:_ Let's do this._

The Smuggler and the Parrot glanced at each other and nodded just before the ships' hatch slid open and connected with the platform.

The Smuggler looked at the box once; quick and sharp, then strode out onto the dock. It differed greatly from the last station he'd been in; more of a bulky, rough design that didn't favour the landscape at all. He spotted a group of robots of different sizes waiting for him nearby; one chewing on a metallic cigar with fire prickling at the end. The Smuggler rose a brow but said nothing.

_Looks like I'll just hafta act all natural. I'll leave in the ship, some back, land somewhere else, sneak in, get the kid and bob's your uncle. Dump her with the authorities and leg it out of here. I've had enough of this kerchu-sweat of a situation..._

"Well salutations and howdaya do, friends." He spoke smoothly as he neared them, placed a hand on his hip and stopped a few steps before them. His voice was pleasant enough, but his face stayed in its frown. "I take it your with them lot back in Luminoplolis."

"Do you have the box?" The largest robot asked bluntly. Smuggler sniffed indifferently, not giving anything away.

"Yup. S'all yours."

The bot regarded him with a scowl before gesturing to his men. They trotted into the ship with the blue man's watchful eye following, and something tightened in his chest when he saw the box being carried out.

Act natural.

"You sure you didn't look in it?" The lead bot addressed him again. The Smuggler offered a sarcastic sort of smirk.

"I know where ma eyes been, friend. I havn't looked in y'alls box."

There was a pause. The two less-than honest men glared back at each other with equal stubbornness, until the robot grunted and turned away.

"Fine then."

The Smuggler's eyes narrowed. "If ah recall correctly, pal...your lil' Crime Boss said that I'd get the rest of ma pay righta 'bout now."

The robot scowled sourly, as if miffed that the tall man had remembered. He gestured over to one of his men and the other metallic henchman threw a bag towards him, which the Lead Bot then tossed to the Smuggler; none too kindly.

The smuggler gave an empty smile. "Thankin' ya kindly."

He couldn't help but feel just a tinge of distaste towards criminals like these- not that he was a cop or a lombax with a living backpack. He just didn't like the kind that got into things like this.

He watches as the other robots carried the box away with ease. The Smuggler watched their path in the dim light; he couldn't tell what time it was after just leaving another planet; but the sun definitely wasn't out.

The lead bot looked snidely back at him before following his men. "Remember, Smuggler. You didn't see anything."

The blue man grinned just a little. "Nah. I didn't see nothing, pal. Happy travels."

He turned and strode back to his ship; making sure he didn't run too fast. He could feel the tin can's eyes boring into the back of his head (or through his hat) as he walked, and the Parrot on it returned the scrutinising gaze darkly.

"Rawrk, what're YOU lookin' at, Rawrk!"

He heard the robot's growl follow him as the hatch of the ship snapped shut. He dropped into the pilot seat and gripped the steering controls, frowning darkly.

_Oooh, Boy. I'd give my hat ta be outa THIS situation._

He flipped on the rear-view camera and watched as the robots strode off with the box. His parrot friend beamed from his shoulder. He couldn't help but return it.

None of them realized that the bird has put a tracking beacon on the grump of a leader's head.

* * *

Getting the ship into auto-pilot and programming it to come back for them was a simple task. But now that the sky of Merdegraw was dark and the jungle-like land was rippling with the crickets and noises of the night creatures. As bare as the dirt trails seemed; pirates and thugs could be waiting for foolish travelers to walk their way too close to the shadows of the trees and bushes.

The place the robots had gone resembled an abandoned oil rig on the land; not really indoor but not really outdoor. Rusted metal walls and pipes surrounded the perimeter; a tall watchtower poking out of the land like a deadly spike. The dim, yellow lights buzzed quietly.

On the fourth level, where the precarious open-wall drops, the robots sat stood around the place, keeping watch.

At least that's what Smuggler could see through his Vision-5 Binoculars.

Crouched in the cover of the trees and shrubs; hidden by the darkness; the Smuggler and his Parrot watched the building from afar. The man lowered his binoculars with a frown. The place itself was pretty bare; not many shadows or areas for cover. A smirk smirk edged onto his lips.

Not that it was going to be THAT hard...but here he couldn't leave any trace of him being here, or he and the kid where both toast ready for jammin'.

"Rawrk." The Parrot murmured quietly. The Smuggler sighed huffily. "Don't do that when we're trying ta lay low and when I'm concentrating'."

Slowly, very slowly, the Parrot lowered itself in front of his line of sight; leaning over the brim of his hat so he appeared upside down in front of the Smuggler's face.

Big, bulging eyes narrowed, he stated: "Rawrk."

FLAP.

The Smuggler ignored the frenzied struggling of the bird under his hat and moved forward. He took quickly; ducked steps, one head on his hat and the other gripping his knife. He slid to the left, behind a moss-covered generator as a lamp light came his way. A kerchu lumbered by, glaring in boredom at the path. The Smuggler's hold on his knife tightened.

The kerchu turned the other way and trotted out of sight. The Smuggler relaxed his grip and peered over the old, round generator at the building where the robots where with the box. Still a little far; but a few quick darts and climbs would get him close in no time.

That was the easier part.

The parrot peeked from under his hat; taking in all the henchman of all types dotted around the place. The Smuggler rubbed his chin.

_Alotta folk for such a quiet scheme. _

Suddenly, something grabbed his arm from behind. With a snarl the Smuggler turned, Whipped his knife out and blocked the butt of the gun the thug swiped at him with. It was one of the robots- its eyes widened it total shock. Then, it hardened into rage.

The Smuggler threw him back, away from the lock of the weapons, and lunged forward with his knife just as the robot said:

"You! YOUR THAT-"

SIZZLE.

His head clambered to the floor after The Smuggler sliced through the wires. Before it hit the ground, the bot's arm flew out and scratched across the Smuggler's forearm. He hissed and stabbed the bot's middle. Smoke puffed out and it dropped to the floor.

The Smuggler stood up and wiped the rust that had flown off of it from his chin, then looked down at his arm. He grumbled a little and pulled out some spare nanotech, crouching behind the mossy power core.

The Parrot huffed from his shoulder as he felt the sting of the stuff working, "Rawrk, first guy ya run into ya get hit."

"Shut yer beak. We'll be lucky ta get outa this alive."

He watched the wound close slowly. Then, he stood, and began crouch- walking along the ground as the other thugs with their lamps moved away. He slipped between small covers such as rocks and old factory-like equipment, big drills covered in grass.

But they were becoming less and less frequent as he closed in on the oil-rig like building embedded in the forestry. He ducked behind another large rock as another robot stormed by, all peg-leg and criminal like. He sighed deeply through his nose and peered over the side of the rock.

He couldn't stay here long.

The Smuggler darted across the bare patch of land between him and the next cover- a vehicle parked nearby that looked quite new compared to the other stuff lying around.

"Hey, what's that?!"

The Smuggler growled and banked to the side from where he heard the voice. Darn it, he'd been caught-

But then he saw that he hadn't been. In fact, all of the cronies patrolling the area where looking up towards the sky; Where something bright was flickering. A ship.

He crouched low, moving over to the parked vehicle for better cover and watched as the cronies looked and pointed, all completely distracted from him. He smirked.

He straightened up and sped towards the building from the side; entering underneath what looked like the abandoned vehicle-parking lot.

He moved to the back of it; then looked upwards at the wall-less floors held up by metal pillar-like architecture. He grabbed onto the pipes leading upwards and began climbing up.

But Just as he reached the top and was able to peer over, the loud 'whoosh' of an engine punctured the night air. He screwed his eye shut and ducked down as the thin, agile ship came to hover by the wall-less side opposite. Air rushed backwards and nearly knocked him off the side.

His parrot held onto his hat for him; but they couldn't do much else much hold on.

The Smuggler forced eye open to see what was going on- and his teeth barred in a snarl.

the ship's side had slid open and two of the robots tossed the box cruelly inside. Standing by the door of the sharp, arrow-like ship was a small figure; blurred by the lights of his dark grey ship and the rushing air around him.

But Smuggler could just make out a trench-coat wearing; big-eared and bright orange body of the person, and the five fingers leaning against the side of the ship as it slid shut and sped away into the sky.

All went quiet. The robots slowly left down the stairs; mumbling trivial conversations as the silence brought by the ship faded back into cricket calls, gibbering and the sounds of night wildlife.

The Smuggler stayed where he was; planted again the side; fingertips gripping the edge of the fourth level of the building. His head rested against the cold metal as he scowled darkly to himself.

"Welp, as if nothin' could get any more complicated here."

The Parrot on his hat shrugged. "Rark...your forgetting the tracking beacon I put on the box, rawrk."

The Smuggler looked up sharply; the bird flying off to remain at eye-level. He looked quite smug.

"Ya put one on the box, too?"

"Always rely on the Parrot, rawrk!"

"...Good job, Partner."

"Rawrk."

* * *

_Always have a Parrot Sidekick is you want to succeed. _


	7. Chapter 7

GAH.

_YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW LAZY/ PROCRASTINATING PERSON I AM. Thanks for the tremendous about of patience and I hope the next chapter is a good one. Action Stuff. Review appreciated since I've been getting little of them lately for other stuff ^^;_

_Hope I wasn't TOO long._

* * *

Chapter 7: Heist and the Hustle

Smuggler had to plan quickly.

The ship had been cloaked with the best technology he could scrounge over the years; starting dirty deals, secrets and too many clients to remember back. He hoped it was enough for his ship to follow the other without detection.

He didn't need to keep a safe distance; the ship with the orange menace who he guessed was the guy he met back on Luminopolis had sped as fast as it could away from Merdgraw and onwards across the planet's sky. By the looks of it the short crime lord wasn't leaving the planet; but the jungle-covered place was a perfect maze.

That is, if your parrot hasn't stuck a smart little tracking beacon on the thing.

The Smuggler lifted an arm and snapped off what lights remained on in the sky; including the safety ones used for traffic. A risk, but not as big as letting pirates and other goons below know you where flying up in the dark. He adjusted his hat as the Parrot landed on the control before him; the radar and buttons the only light in the ship.

"Rawrk, can't see a thing."

The Smuggler rolled his eyes. "I'd be great ifa didn' hear anything, either."

"...Rawrk."

The Smuggler ignored the last noise and glanced at a screen nearby. The ship they where following seemed to be slowing down. He squinted and peered through the glass but it was so dark now he could barely see much of the landscape. But the ship ahead lowered down and finally it seemed to have come to a stop. The Smuggler ran his tongue over his teeth, processing. Then, he landed his ship. Couldn't get too close.

He transferred the beacon radar to a hand-held remote and stood, straightening his hat.

Then, he moved into the darkness outside. It was colder in this part of Merdegraw, though he wasn't that bothered. Ringing calls of jungle life filled the air as he placed a camouflage disc on his ship, and watched it fade from sight. He whipped out his knife and quickly but stealthily began making his way towards wherever it was the little orange menace had gone.

* * *

"What are you doooing, Orannge?"

The hissing man watched his colleague from the doorway of the base if it could be called that. It wasn't much better than the place they'd retrieved the box, but at least this time it had windows and doors unlike that .

An old base of operations that had once been part of an oil industry, the tall, bulky building was metal and sturdy with a good security network built into it recently. The doors had been replaced and lights lit up from the walls, though for some reason not here.

The hooded reptilian man glared sourly at Orange, the lombax standing with his back to him and he peered cheerfully out the window. A smirk was plastered on his vivid orange face, and he was twirling a bolt absently in one hand. He had the look of an insane child watching a movie, and quite frankly his cohort didn't have time for it.

"Are you lisssstening, you-"

"Oh get something done about that hiss," Orange glared at him sharply over his shoulder, "Who's in charge here? I am. And need I remind you that my methods never fail?"

His brows raised confidently and he turned away from his college calmly, still fiddling with that darn bolt. His dry, thin mouth twisted in a snarl. "Nevver too late for failure, Lombax..."

"Be quiet." Came the dry, snipping reply. The other criminal sneered and turned, marching out the door, grumbling to himself about demented rodents with ridiculous fur.

Orange's bony fingers gripped tightly on the bolt in his hand, and he exhaled slowly through his nose to keep himself calm. Then, red-striped ears lifted as a smile came to his face.

_Perks and Downsides I suppose. After all, my plan's going just as I want it. Too bad I'm such with such a barnacle... _

Oh well. He wouldn't be around forever...

One of his robot men stuck his head through the door hesitantly. "Uh, Boss...the box is in the cargo port. We've stationed guys to guard it and..."

"Oh good, As If I wouldn't have know, putting it there myself..." The robot cringed, but Orange was smiling to himself by the window, "Just do what I told you...this is where it gets fun."

The robot left gratefully as Orange lifted a pair of tech-binoculars to his eyes, watching the approaching figure from a distance in infrared.

"Raaawrk, Can't see a thing."

"Don't. Ya. Start."

Smuggler wasn't too bad in the dark, but this was ridiculous. It was like all light from Merdegraw had been sucked out except the subtle glow behind the jungle trees ahead. He had to admit they picked a good hiding spot; If the Parrot hadn't put that tracking beacon on the box he would never have found it.

Smuggler raised his radar- and his eye widened. The signal was scrambling up. He growled and gave the thing a few hits to try and set it right, but to no avail. Green static appeared on the screen.

"Darnit ta heck..."

"Rawrk, we're screwed, we're screwed."

"Looks like we'll hafta do this the hard way." Smuggler scowled and continued towards the light. He could hear voices, many of them, one barking commands that rippled through the trees. When he finally neared them, he found the jungle foliage had been cut over, leaving a wide, bare circle ditch clearing around a large metal building. Cranes, ships and more gang members dotted around the place, all heavily armed. His only cover was the fence-like row of trees spiraling around the area.

The Smuggler soundlessly moved along them, glancing through each gap and taking in the scene. Too many to sneak past without a distraction...but could they be THAT stupid...?

"...Rawrk." He glanced upwards. The Parrot looked down at him like his brain had the IQ of paperclips and gestured with a tilt of his head to the crane towering over the brutes. The Smuggler allowed a grin.

"Not bad, Partner. Yer on a role taday."

"Rawrk, Praise the Parrot."

The patrolling henchman (kerchu, robots that looked oddly like miniature ShellShocks and tyrranoids) halted when something rustled in the trees above the circular ditch. A pair of kerchu glanced at each other quizzically, the robot gang member nearest to the rustling looking back at the rest uncertainly. Then, they did what most would do in the situation.

They fired like daft army grunts.

The tree that had once stood there was reduced to a smoldering pile of ash. Then, a tall skied shadow appeared over them. All eyes were on it as it traveled across the ships, the large boxes of ammo, then to a stack of barrels...

"What the..."

Standing idly and completely with a deadpan expression stood a little bird with bulging, narrowed eyes. It was also covered in green leaves, and it stared at them darkly.

The tyrranoid nearest to it glanced at his co-worker. "There's a bird ova there."

"Yeah, there is..."

The bird continued to stare at them as one member snickered and took aim. "Anyone for chicken?"

The small creature's eyes narrowed and he opened his beak wide. The henchmen froze, and gasped. A grenade sat on its tongue. And a second later it tossed it at them.

The bright light of the explosion met Smuggler above, who had climbed up the trees and leaped onto the crane, and just as he climber up to the top and began walking along its arm-like appendage the blast sounded from below. He grinned to himself as scaled the arm.

"Yup. I knew I'd need that bird-brain one day..."

For a moment he wondered if they'd recognized the parrot. Then he shrugged. They probably wouldn't remember now. Lucky he'd dumped all those sticky leaves over him just in case.

He jumped up onto the building and began climbing the pipes as fast as he could. There was all sort of frenzied commotion below and he wouldn't have much time.

The tall man reached a bridge between two higher floors; probably for landing ships and so on. He quickly pressed himself against the wall as a bunch of gang members ran out the doors of one side, and he slid around the corner and through the doors just before they slid shut.

He whipped out his knife and took fast, quiet steps. His eyes darted around, looking for cameras. There had to be a control room nearby where he could turn the lights off or...

He froze.

The Smuggler could just make out a small, muffled sound. Crying.

The blue man sped around the corner through the dim hallway, coming to a large door that didn't make the bronze look of the rest of the building. It was sealed shut with a security pad to the left.

"Darnit. It's always the fancy stuff."

He stood back a few meters and pulled out a circular device. He pressed his thumb down on the inconspicuous red button and tossed it towards the door.

BAM.

He looked back and found barely any damage had been done. An he'd started an alarm, perfect. So much for quick and easy...

An idea came to him as he heard approaching footsteps. He glanced at the security pad and smiled a little, brows furrowed.

The kerchu henchmen came to a surprised halt when they found no-one standing in the dead-end corridor. One muttered to another and shoved him towards the security pad. It was obvious that they thought he was inside.

They opened the door and glanced about the window-less chamber, confused. Then, they shut the door and charged away in search of the mysterious intruder that had been hiding above them, arms and legs locking him to the ceiling. He swung inside before the door slammed shut, keeping the code he'd seen entered in the pad in mind.

Smuggler spotted the box against the wall, still sealed shut. He could hear the muffled sobs of the kid inside as he knelt by it. He flipped off the latches and lifted the lid.

The kid gasped and wailed, pulling the sheet up to hide herself from the intruder. The Smuggler rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Sweat Pea, its me."

He reached inside and plucked her out quickly, sheet and all, and set hr on her feet. The kid hiccuped solemnly, staring at up him as he if where some kind of ghost.

"Mr Hat Man...?" She mumbled.

The Smuggler flashed a smirk. "Didn' think I'd come, didja?"

The kid seemed like she was wondering whether to shake her head or nod, but he didn't have time for sappy reunions. "C'mon, we're goin'." He scooped her up and held her in the crook of his arm, knife in the other as he whipped back to the security pad an entered the code. Then, he sped out, the kid's arms wrapped around his neck.

"Weee!" Came the quiet voice of the girl as he sped around the corner. The Smuggler tried not to sigh.

"C'mon, Sweat Pe, we ain't got time ta make noise."

He ran out into the open bridge he'd come in on and glanced around sharply. Seeing no other way, he darted to the side and jumped onto a pipe, sliding down with one arm holding the now terrified kid tight. When he reached the crane's arm again she was crying, head pressed against his shoulder.

"RAWRK, THEY'RE TYING TA BURN ME!"

The Smuggler, just as he neared the cover of the trees outside the circular ditch, saw the Parrot zooming around the area below. It looked like he'd set some of the ammo on fire (and some of the robot's heads) and he shook his head.

This day just gets better and better.

He handed his knife to the confused kid in his arm and pulled another grenade from his pocket. He eyed the line of smaller ships below and took aim.

BOOM.

The parrot zoomed away as they exploded, tipping into each other in flames. The henchman ran about the place in a frenzy as the Smuggler leaped from the crane and into the tree tops, kicking off a branch with a quick, almost panicked grunt and landing on the ground.

His knees yelled in protest but he darted into the cover of the woods, the Parrot barreling into his hat.

"Rawrk, I HATE you..."

The girl petted the bird happily, sniffing as she rubbed her eyes with her other hand. "Nice Birdie. Thank you..."

The Smuggler took the time now to sigh. "What I don't getta thank ye? Peachy, Kiddo..."

"Thank you Mista Hat Man..." She stared at the knife in her hands with a wide-eyed expression. "Are you sure you nev-a killed anyone...?"

Unbeknownst to the fleeing three, a certain orange figure watched them from high above in the base with an ever broadening grin.

_And on we go...Heheh..._

* * *

_Too easy, ya say? Orange is a planner. _


	8. Chapter 8

_You know, I almost gave up. May still, because apparently this fic isn't doing well. Its hard to write when new chapters get one review by the same person and each of those reviews are the same words ^^; Not that I'm ungrateful but I feel they're there out of politeness. Earlier on people asked me to hurry up and update now no one's bothered, and if anyone's reading this they're not mentioning it. Its a little disheartening when this happens. No one comments anyone- and it seems its not just my fics getting the cold shoulder. I wonder where everyone's gone. Is the site going down? I don't know._

_So this fic is getting closer to being discontinued, but for now I'll go ahead. Here's the next chapter._

* * *

Chapter 8: Toy Ships and Trials

The Smuggler wondered how he got into this mess in the first place.

The little girl was running around the ship as he tried to keep his eyes on the space before him, and she was making it increasingly difficult. She was holding up an old toy ship, that had sat in her pocket this whole time and was now fling around the place from her hand.

"Wheee!"

Her soft little voice chimed through the air as the Parrot tried to avoid the miniature ship model that was perusing him. "Rawrk, I'm not a toy, not a toy!"

The Smuggler looked over his shoulder and called, "Wouldja stop encouragin' 'er?"

"Rawrk, blame the parrot, always blame the parrot..."

The Smuggler rolled his eyes and grumbled. "This is gettin' way outa hand..." He called over his shoulder again, this time addressing the kid. "Sweet Pea, can ya let Smuggler drive in peace?"

The girl slowed to a halt, clutching her toy. She looked at him with a wide-eyed, quiet expression. Then he sat down and decided to fiddled with it on the floor instead. The exhausted parrot landed on his hat, flopping down on his stomach.

"Rawrk."

The tall blue man sighed, please with at least some peace and quiet. Then, he caught something out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head and found the girl was standing beside the pilot seat, staring up at him.

"Somethin' on yer mind, Sweet Pea?"

She tilted her head, "Are you-a undercover agent, Mister?"

The Parrot scoffed with laughter from his hat. The owner of said head garment rose a brow.

"Not really, Kiddo. Just a couple of Honest Smugglers. And the only reason I'm in this is c'uz I thought I was transportin' a piece of machinery, not some funny little tyke."

She looked at his hat. "Are you a Space Cowboy?"

The Parrot was snickering quietly, barely able to keep himself from bursting into bird-ish laughter by the looks of him. The Smuggler heaved another sigh.

"You knooow...Me and some others ran into some space pirates once."

The Smuggler cocked a brow again, "That right?"

"Yup. I hit them on the toes with a hammer." She stated with quite simply, shrugging. The Smuggler stared at her. The Parrot's bulging eyes squinted in a weirded out expression.

"Rark! She's a nutcase! Dump 'er in the loony bin."

...

* * *

_"Stop, Thief!"_

Back in the grimy under-streets of Luminopolis, a lanky figure darted through the roads, bare feet slapping against the harsh metal, arms slicing back and forth as he ran with the speed of an athlete. The skinny figure with blue skin skidded around a corner, clutching a satchel in hand as he went. A knee-length, sleeveless jumpsuit was the only form of clothing he possessed.

The youth squeezed into a narrow gap between two buildings; small enough to remain unnoticed by his chasers who had yet to turn the corner. He slipped through with experience and exited on the other side. He then slid down a circular generator behind the buildings before finally coming to a stop.

Panting a little, the boy was joined by some other street youths; though he was preoccupied with the bag. He reached in and plucked out the item he'd been looking for and tossed the rest to the others' letting them tear at it like rabid dogs as he wandered away.

Hands shaking, the blue boy held up the sphere in his hands and pressed the button. A lombax appeared, wearing a trench coat, and a message began playing.

"To my associate. My plan is going accordingly and I am having a merry time with it if I do say so myself. The Smuggler has the girl and they are travelling any from Merdecraw. No doubt her brother will be searching for her so be on high alert..."

With a snappy grin and a tilt of the head, the hologram of the lombax vanished.

Vigalo, still panting, scowled dangerously and slowly looked over his skid-marked, skinny shoulder at the Ship Docks, seen away and above the shining buildings.

He mumbled in a not-yet broken voice.

"Merdegraw? Fine by me..."

...

* * *

"So ya said there where others? Ya live with more o' them street rats or somethin'?"

The girl glared up at him, seething, her little face pulled into a pout. The Smuggler chuckled and held up his hands in a rebuff.

"Okay, Honey, I take it back. Yer friends are real nice and I ain't one to talk anyhow."

The girl cocked her head to the side questioningly, "Where you a street rat once, Hat Man?"

The Smuggler frowned and looked back at the controls with a sniff, raising a hand to pull out his toothpick as he thought. "...Yeah. Once."

"A really long time ago?"

"Yup."

"Rawrk!" The Parrot hopped onto his shoulder, eyes narrowed slyly, "A really, really long time, rawrk."

The Smuggler gave him a warning look. "Yer being way too difficult these days, you."

"Rawrk, you used me as bird bate ta get the girl back!"

The tall blue man grinned up at him as the bird flew back onto his head, glaring at him. "Fair point."

_SLAM._

The Smuggler's teeth barred and he grabbed onto the joystick as the ship tilted off balance, knocking the Parrot off his hat and the girl off her feet. They slid against the wall as the alarms went off, and the man began to drag himself back onto the pilot seat. The Voice of the ship's computer called from above.

"Attention. Incoming ships attacking."

"Great." The Smuggler jerked the wheel and turned the ship back upright. The little girl ran forward and slammed her head down on one of the buttons, ignoring his bark of protest.

He glanced at the radar, trying to ignore the ringing in his ears. Five ships tailed them, and the shields had just gone up. He gave the girl a questioning look. "How'd ya know that was the righ' one?"

She shrugged plainly, "My brother knows about ships. He says the shield's always the purple one."

"...Did he now?"

He grunted as he turned the ship left, trying to shake their pursuers. He pulled a lever and the engines blasted, picking up more speed. "See, if he knew more about watchin' ya than he did ships then we wouldn't be here!"

"He's a bit of a noodle-head. He's in charge most of the time..." She rolled her eyes. The Smuggler laughed gruffly as he fired some missiles back at the enemy ships.

"Noodle Head. Now there's a term, Sweet Pea."

"Rark, Your both noodle heads. Noodle-" The girl, taking a leaf out of the Smuggler's book, took the latter's hat and placed it over the bird.

"...Nice goin' there, Sweet Pea."

...

* * *

"He'sss picking them off too eassssy."

The brightly coloured lombax grinned that insurable grins of his and turned to face his tall reptilian partner. "You think I don't know that? Everything's going as I want it."

"You want us to fail, your fool!" The man's temper snapped at last and his thin lips twisted in a snarl, "We will be thrown in Zordoon because of you and your childish games!"

Orange rolled his eyes and held up a finger, hushing him patronizingly. "Sh. This is how it works, see, the Smuggler has the girl again and now he's the one stamped as the abductor. And once that skinny brother of hers fins that message I planted, whether he sniffs a trap or not he'll come. Then the two of them can be reeled back in for the taking."

The gloomy criminal retorted, "And the Smuggler?"

"Zordoom. He gets convicted, we're scot-free, and before he can sing..." The lombax waves his finger about in a 'tut tut' fashion, "Our inside men kill him. Simply done."

The other criminal sneered and stormed from the shadowy control room. Alone, Orange stared at the doorway he left with his sharp, wide grin.

He left out the part when a certain orange lombax shoots his tall green partner in the back of his skull.

* * *

_Pictures of Vigalo and Sweet Pea can be found on my account._

_Reviews__ appreciated._


End file.
